


All Single Riders Will Be Paired

by queenallyababwa



Category: Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975), Monty Python's Spamalot
Genre: Amusement Parks, Ayy I'm the second poster in this section, F/M, First Dates, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, Modern AU, yay me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-02 13:32:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10219418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenallyababwa/pseuds/queenallyababwa
Summary: During the dog days of summer, Herbert stands in line for a rollercoaster while trying to avoid being third wheeled by his friends' date. Thank God for the handsome stranger in front of him who's tying to help pass the time.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Well, it's been three years since I've written a Spamalot fanfiction. And now I am right back where I belong - in the trash pit of this fandom.

“You know, I like your hair like that.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I like it a lot. You should keep it blue. And the bangs. They’re nice.”

Herbert wanted to stab his eyes out. Never in his entire life had he been so brutally third-wheeled, and so third-wheeled by Lucky of all people. But here he was, standing in a crowd of a thousand people, another person in the audience having to bear witness to the nauseating theatrics of a first date. 

He leaned against the metal barrier that made up this snaking corral leading up to the roller coaster and rolled his head back so he was staring directly at the sun with his sunglasses.

“Well, ah, thank you. You know, I was kinda hesitant about doing something so dramatic but I think it came out pretty good,” Roger said as he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck that (miraculously) hadn’t been sunburned after a long day at the amusement park.

His free hand was holding Lucky’s as she tried to reach up and touch the newly-blue hair - long and with odd, triangular bangs. 

“But they might be a bitch to grow out? I had bangs in like the start of Sophomore year of high school and I ended up not liking them but I was a Junior when they were back to normal.”

“I mean, I guess . . . ”

Oh, the banalities of young love. 

This was Roger and Lucky’s first true date. They had seen each other before - a movie here, a day at the city gardens there, once a midnight viewing of Rocky Horror Picture Show - but this was the first time they were actually together and kissing and making goo-goo eyes and leaving Herbert out of all of their conversations.

He sighed and pushed the bridge of his glasses up. On top of being cast aside by his roommate for an unconventional florist, it was quite possibly the hottest day of the summer thus far, and there were just so many people at this park. They had been standing in line for this coaster for a full forty-five minutes. They were all hot, and bored, and impatient. 

(The only saving grace of this whole experience was when a man had come by with a cartful of lemonade and popcorn to sell to the sweltering patrons. 

“I want to name my first-born son after him,” Lucky had sighed in relish as she downed her lemonade that Roger had bought for her. )

The line inched forward and they shuffled towards the stairs that lead up to the loading dock. And as everyone else in line buzzed with excitement of finally reaching the promised land, Lucky was already looking forward to what was going to happen after they rode the rollercoaster.

“So Roger and I were thinking about going on the boat ride,” she told Herbert. “You wanna go with us?”

“The Love Tunnel?” Herbert asked, remember the cheesy aquatic ‘Love Lagoon’ from his childhood in all it’s glow-in-the-dark glory.

“No, they got rid of that a couple years ago,” Roger chimed in. “It’s actually a ride based off of the Garfield comics now.”

Herbert laughed at the ridiculous thought of a Garfield ride. “I think I might actually pass on that, Luck. I was always a Peanuts fan, to be honest.” Besides, saturated with a fat, orange cat or not, Herbert was sure the couple would bring back the romantic overtones to the ride.

Lucky shrugged. “Suit yourself.” 

“I mean, you’re not missing much,” Roger assured Herbert. “But if you like cheesy stuff, it’s fun.” 

“I might just grab a funnel cake or an ice cream or something while you guys are on the ride,” Herbert told them. “Maybe I’ll run through that mister for half an hour. I don’t know - the world’s my oyster.”

The line’s shuffle slowed to a full stop and they were finally back under the shade of the pavilion housing the coaster. Herbert heard the whir of the fans in the pavilion and the promise of relief made him smile. He pushed his sunglasses up on his hair that he was sure was a blonde bush with the humidity. 

“Since you’re not going to hang out with us in what is sure to be a thrill, where do you want meet?” Lucky asked as pulled out her ponytail and tried to fix it. 

“Ah,” Herbert had to jog his memory because it had been a long time since he had been to this park. (Back in middle school, he had been here on a school trip with the choir for some sort of competition before his dad made him drop out of show choir all together.) “The carousel?”

“Carousel?” Lucky murmured through holding her hair tie between her teeth as her hair obscured her face. She secured her ponytail and stood up. “Sure.”

The line (thank god) moved forward again and they were standing up on the stairs. Soon they’d be on the loading dock, about to get 45 seconds of fun after waiting for nearly an hour.

Roger looked over his shoulder “So who’s getting the end seats?”

***  
In the end, it was Roger and Herbert. Lucky was slightly scared (though she wouldn’t admit it) and insisted on getting the middle. She yelled at Roger for making her go on this crazy ride the entire way up the hill. But when it was all said and done, she was laughing as they pulled back into the station. 

“Wish it wasn’t another hour for another ride,” she sighed as she grabbed her purse from the cubby she placed it in before the ride. “I wonder why it’s so busy.”

“I heard it was some company picnic,” Roger said as he picked up Herbert’s backpack. “And also, it might be some sort of Finnish Heritage Day. But I’m just guessing from what I saw at the amphitheatre when I went to refill my water bottle.”

They walked down the pathway, back into the hot sun and the normal amusement park. Lucky’s hand was back in Roger’s. She turned to face Herbert. 

“Well. I guess we’ll see you later?”

“Yeah. I’ll see you later.”

And so Lucky and Roger went off into the swarm of employees and Finnish people to go brave Garfield’s Night Terror or whatever the hell it was. 

Herbert sighed and grabbed the straps of his backpack. He had a good hour or so to be alone and he was going to find the best way to spend it. For a few minutes, he toyed with the idea of getting food - the thought of sugary cotton candy and fresh-squeezed lemonade was tempting until he remembered how expensive everything was here. But then, as he was food-stand bound, he stopped in his tracks when he saw the sign for Xcalibur. 

Xcalibur was still a Big Thing, although it was now two seasons old. A quick glance up at the clock above the entrance proclaimed a 2:45 - two hours and forty five minute wait time. But then he looked off to the side.

SINGLE RIDERS. 0:40. 

Well, damn.

And suddenly he was standing in line next to a muscular-looking man, already having passed at least four hundred people. The man was on his phone, most likely scrolling through something to pass the time. He was wearing a black tee-shirt and was trying to look like he most likely wasn’t dying in the harsh sun.

Herbert put his sunglasses back on and leaned up against the railing, but the line shuffled forward before he could really relax. The guy with the lemonade cart pushed through the adjacent group riders, creating a ripple in the line. Fascinated, and perhaps a little hungry, Herbert watched and tried to remember how much cash he had left to buy something as he walked - straight into the back of the man in front of him. 

“Sorry!” He quickly apologized as the man turned around. “Wasn’t paying attention.”

The guy smirked and murmured, “No problem.”

Suddenly, the cart was near them and Herbert swiftly moved his backpack to fish for three dollars. But the man in front of him was faster and was holding up a five. The boy pushing the cart - no more than sixteen - stopped.

“One lemonade, please,” the man said, handing him his money.

“Fresh out,” the kid said, shaking his head.

“Aw, dammit,” the man murmured thickly. “Any water?”

“Sorry.”

The man groaned. “Guess I’ll take a popcorn then and at least enjoy myself before I die of thirst.”

“You know,” Herbert chimed up, “I have an extra bottle of water in my backpack. Do you want it?”

Clearly the man was taken back by Herbert’s offer. “Wow, uh, that’s really nice of you.” He smiled brightly down at Herbert as he was handed his popcorn by the kid. He was given his change but stopped, “Tell you what, I’ll buy you something to eat and we’ll be even.”

“Oh, ah, thank you.” Herbert smiled back at the guy and really hoped he wasn’t blushing when they made eye contact. He turned to the kid and told him, “I’ll have some cotton candy.”

“Blue or pink?”

“Pink, please.”

The kid handed Herbert a small bag of cotton candy and the man handed him the rest of the change back to the kid, who then moved on to most likely disappoint more people on his lack of true refreshment.

Herbert opened up his backpack and pulled out of his bag a bottle of water. He handed it to the man, who gratefully accepted it, whispering, “thank you” quickly and immediately chugged down half. 

“You must be dying in this heat,” Herbert noted the man’s black tee shirt.

“Oh, yeah. I got up late today and grabbed the nearest clean shirt,” the man said when he finally took a breath. “Didn’t think it was going to be this hot.”

“I’d better eat this quickly before it melts into gloop,” Herbert said as he untied his cotton candy. He took a large handful and it was already disintegrating in his hands. He took a bite and said, “By the way, thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure.” The man told him.

They stood in silence, enjoying their snack for a few moments before the line shuffled forward again.

The man whistled lowly as they turned and corner and saw more and more people waiting in the normal line. “My boss is gonna be pissed.”

Herbert didn’t know if he should ask but he did.“About?”

“Waiting for almost three hours for a roller coaster. His wife is making him ride it,” the man chuckled. “Gwen is a thrill seeker and Arthur is . . . not. So he’s probably mad he’s wasting his time on something he’s not going to enjoy anyway.”

“Well, I’m with my roommate and she and her boyfriend are the same way,” Herbert laughed along with the man. “Coming here today was his idea.”

The man chuckled and the line moved again. When they stopped, he turned around and said, “I’m Lance, by the way.”

“Herbert.”

“Herbert?” The man repeated as he had a smile play on his lips and perhaps the slightest quizzical look. “Never met a Herbert before.”

“It’s my paternal granddad’s name,” Herbert explained, knowing how old-fashioned his name was. “My family had a big thing for ‘H’ names. Henry, Helena, Herbert.”

“I don’t know where ‘Lance’ came from,” Lance admitted. “I think my mom just liked it attached to Cockburn because my dad’s name was Rick.”

They were quiet for a few minutes as they finished up their snacks. “So your boss is here?”

“Yeah. It’s a company picnic type thing. We come here like every other year,” Lance answered. 

Herbert pried, “So what do you do?” 

“I work as a French translator for an international company that manages nightclubs.”

“Oh, wow, that’s impressive,” Herbert said, genuinely surprised that this tough, towering guy standing before him was fluent in a romantic language. 

“Well, what else do you do with a B.A. in French - other than teach? And believe me, I wouldn’t have made a very good teacher. I don’t have the temperament for it.”

Herbert laughed and admitted, “I guess I do then? I actually I went for education back in school. Just about gave my dad a heart attack when I told him what I was studying instead of Business Management like he did.”

“So do you teach?”

“I’m a music sub right now. Hoping to get a full-time position in the area because some guy’s retiring in the district soon. I ,uh,” Herbert hated to admit that he had to work two jobs because his first one wasn’t exactly working out. “ I also wait tables at a diner part time. Just to bring in some extra cash.”

“Where at?”

“Ah, Sparky’s down by the pier.” 

Sparky’s was a little dive place that most people didn’t know about unless they were - 

“The on in the gayborhood?”

Holy crap he knew where it was, what if they had seen each other before?

“You know Sparky’s?”

“Well, I am gay,” Lance laughed in a warm way. “I used to go there with my friend Rob when I first came out. It’s a nice place. Good home fries from what I remember. I remember the Banana Foster French toast was to die for -”

Having bonded over this shared information, Herbert felt less awkward with this stranger. They talked about their times as Sparky’s - Herbert about the myriad of stories he had as a waiter, Lance about the Saturday mornings there with his friend. They talked about Herbert’s music classes and Lance’s company and ventures to France. Lance learned Herbert could recite good portions of Amadeus from repeating the video for six classes. Herbert learned Lance was in line because his roommate, Robin, dropped out at the last minute, claiming he was “sick”.

“He just chickened out, even though he paid for the ticket,” Lance told him. They were nearing the front of the line and Lance just had a few broken kernels left at the bottom of his box that he and Herbert were playing a game to try and see who could catch them the quickest. Herbert ended up throwing a third of his cottoncandy out because it became too melted. “Of course, I think he actually got so scared when we were nine and he might have peed himself on a ride and something and he’s still dealing with that trauma.”

He sighed, shaking his head. “And that, is why I’m standing in the singles line,” he finished with a sigh. He dug through the dented white and red box, extracting a kernel. He looked at it with a mock wistful nature. “Last one.”

“I swear I can catch it this time!” Herbert exclaimed, from where he was sitting on the rail. He opened his mouth, ready to prove Lance wrong.

“You said that the last three times.”

“Yeah but I really mean it this time, Lance.”

Lance’s eyebrows furrowed and his tongue licked his lips. “He shoots.” And he tossed the kernel.

It exceeded Herbert’s mouth by at least five feet. Herbert tried to catch it up and ended up falling off the railing, catching himself with an awkward landing. He burst out laughing as Lance helped him up.

“What kind of shot was that?” He laughed, still holding Lance’s hand.

“Listen, I played football, not basketball.”

“Okay, Mister Superstar Athlete.” Herbert took his and from Lance’s as he crossed his arms, challenging him.

Lance scoffed. 

The line shuffled forward and they were nearing the top of the platform - the same exact place Herbert had been over an hour ago with Lucky and Roger. But now it was just him and Lance, a forty-minute conversation making for a much better time than being deadwood to a date. 

“Hey, are you ready for this?” Lance asked him as they were three steps up towards the coaster. “It’s a ninety degree drop and they pause the coaster before you go down - it’s like you’re starting your demise right in the eye.”

“Well, not that you put it that way, no.” Herbert smiled. 

Before they knew it, they were sitting in their seats- almost exactly in the middle - with their large, bulky harnesses over their shoulders. The overworked teenaged attendants walked down the line, checking the security of the safety belts. Herbert looked over to Lance with a tight smile. Lance smiled broadly back, giddy with excitement. 

“Regretting this?”

“A bit. This whole thing was kinda a spontaneous decision of mine, which eight out of ten times I don’t regret, but I’m thinking that maybe this wasn’t actually a good idea.”

“If you really are nervous, you can hold my hand.”

“Smooth. That’s exactly what my roommate’s boyfriend said to her before they went on the last coaster.”

The teenagers stepped away from the car. Someone at the big booth in the sky leaned into the microphone and declared,“Riders, we are cleared for dispatch. Enjoy your ride on Xcalibur.”

“Oh shit,” Herbert murmured as the brakes released and the car pulled forward.

Lance reached over and put his hand on top of Herbert’s (which was currently clinging for dear life on his restraint.)

Fucking smooth. 

“So, now seems to be the time to give my last confession?” Herbert shouted over the clicking of the car as the steadily pulled themselves up the hill. “I feel like I should apologize to my roommate for eating her expensive leftovers and saying it was her girlfriend. That was brutal.”

Lance shouted back, “Oh c’mon, it was leftovers. It’s fair game.”

Herbert cried out dramatically, “No. It was lobster ravioli and creme brulee and it was like a fifty dollar dinner and I ate it.”

“Oh. Well then I guess, God have mercy on your soul.”

“I always knew I was probably going to hell, anyway.”

And just like that they were at the top of the hill, looking straight down, just as Lance had said, at the bottom of the hill. Herbert closed his eyes.

And they were flying.

Through the corkscrews and loops, he screamed and held on for dear life and somewhere in that terrifying ninety second time frame, Lance shouted “The picture is coming up.” But when they pulled into the stationed, greeted by a less enthusiastic, “Riders welcome back” Lance looked to Herbert and burst out laughing, which made Herbert laugh, too. 

“Well, I’m not dead!” Herbert exclaimed brightly.

“You’re not,” Lance laughed. 

The car pulled back into the station, the restraints were released with a soft hiss, and Lance helped Herbert back onto the platform. Herbert grabbed his backpack as Lance put his sunglasses back on his head. 

Both didn’t want to acknowledge that this was the end. But that’s what you do when you meet a stranger in line for some roller coaster. You laugh. You have a good time. You go on with your own life.

Herbert pulled out his phone from the front of his backpack and turned it back on. They followed the line down to where the little booth sold unfortunate looking pictures of people on the ride. Herbert stopped there to check his text messages. Five messages from Lucky.

Hey, what are you doing? There’s a kid screaming behind us and I want to die.

So? Food? Maybe? After this?

FUCK THE KID THREW UP. WHEREVER YOU ARE, BE GLAD YOU’RE NOT HERE!!

We’re about to take the boat outta here. (Attached was a picture of Roger giving a thumbs up.)

Where are you???

For whatever reason, Herbert expected Lance to have already left him without saying goodbye. It would be a shame to have spent the past hour together for him to just disappear into the crowd again. But when Herbert’s eyes moved up from his phone screen, He was staring back at Lance, who was texting into his own.

“So, ah,” Herbert began. “It’s been fun -”

“Hey, yeah.” Lance turned off his phone. “Hey, ah, I don’t know how to say this, but uh, do you want to get food? I mean, Arthur and Gwen and Bedivere and Dennis aren’t going to be off the ride for a long time now and I’m starving.”

“Well, I was actually supposed to meet my roommate for something. ” Herbert thought of Lucky. And then he thought of Roger. Lucky and Roger Lady and the Tramp-ing it over some chili fries. While he sat alone with his own basket of fries. “But, I mean, she’s technically on a date, so I think she wouldn’t mind. Plus, I couldn’t leave you all alone.”

Lance’s face brightened. “Great, but let’s check out that picture first.”

Herbert scoffed, “Aw, Lance. I know I’m gonna look terrible.”

They both meandered to the stand, where yet another disgruntled teen sat in front of half a dozen monitors that displayed the capture moment of terror (or silliness) from their ride. 

“Which one are we . . .” Lance tutted as he scanned for himself and Herbert. He found them and asked for the kid behind the stand to display it at a smaller, closer monitor.

Right in the middle of the picture was Lance, looking like he was having the time of his life, and Herbert, his unruly curls standing straight up like the Bride of Frankenstein. The sight immediately made Herbert cringe but it made Lance burst out into a peal of laughter.

“That’s a good one,” Lance chuckled. 

“No it’s not,” Herbert protested, trying his best to comb his fingers through his hair because dear god what if it still looked like that. 

After a moment of consideration, Lance said, “I think I’m going to buy it.” Before Herbert could stop him, he had already pulled out his wallet. “Two prints, please.” 

The kid behind the counter took his money and went to work to print and frame the pictures. Lance looked sideways at Herbert and told him that it was “Something to remember this day by.”

When Herbert was handed the glossy photo, tucked neatly into a little paper folder, he looked at it more intently. Okay, his hair was a mess, but how was it possible that even on a seventy-mile an hour roller coaster, Lance looked still incredibly handsome.

Herbert put the picture in his backpack careful and Lance was already beckoning him to follow him.

“Let’s go get something to eat, before I gnaw my own arm off. ”

***

The plaza outside of the row of little food stands was a buzz with people eating greasy food. Children ran around, spilling their ice cream their parents paid good money for. The fountain near by was whirling and several more rebellious older kids were trying to take the pennies that coated the bottom.

Not exactly a quiet place for conversation.

Despite it all, Lance was talking up a storm about Paris. He had been there dozen of times - his first time was a study abroad in college - and he was talking about the best place to get crepes on the street, and his hotel on the Right Bank. And it sounded so much more cultured than sitting on a sticky picnic table, eating a plate of cheese fries. 

Herbert smiled and hung on to every word Lance said, trying to imagine Paris for himself. Lucky had gone for her graduation gift all those years ago and she had brought him back some postcards, a silk tie, and a box of (semi-crushed) macaroons. 

(For his graduation, his dad put on an old-fashioned tent party in their backyard, which was hardly a celebration because Herbert had to play host and small talk with all of his father’s co- workers and neighbors he didn’t really know.)

“Have you ever been?” 

Suddenly Herbert snapped out of his focus when Lance asked him a question. His back straightened. 

“To Paris?”

“Yeah. To Paris.”

Herbert immediately looked down at the vibrant yellow carnage on the paper plate between them. “No, no. My dad wasn’t big on going places when I was little. The beach, a few times, but he mostly put me in the hands of the daycare people at the resort.”

Admitting this kind of personal thing felt so weird, given that he had known him all of two hours. He wanted to take back what he said, and he could feel himself try to recoil, but Lance leaned forward.

“It was the same for me as a kid. We didn’t have a lot of money and I had to fundraise for two years to go to Montreal with my high school and it was Montreal. It wasn’t across the whole ocean.”

Herbert’s eyes looked up from the cheese fries and looked up to Lance, whose facial expression had softened. Herbert blushed.

“So, if you were to go anywhere - right now - where would you go?” Lance asked.

“Right now? Like I don’t get to pack or anything?” Herbert laughed.

“Nope. Plane is boarding as we speak and you have to get on and figure out where the hell you’re going this minute.”

“I’m dragging a whole bunch of people along on my split-second decision?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I don’t know.” He folded his arms and cocked his head and thought. “Maybe Key West?”

Lance looked up from his soda, eyebrows raised in approval as he nodded.

“Okay . . .” Herbert began. “What about you?”

Lance put his soda down and reached for a cheese fry. “Can I know why?”

“Why Key West, specifically? Because honestly that was the first name that popped in my head when I thought about the beach. And I don’t know, I just want somewhere nice and tropical even though I don’t like the heat. The ocean sounds nice right about now.” Herbert shrugged. “But you know, what I want to know is why you asked that question. It sounded awfully first date-y to me.”

And for one moment, Herbert swore he could see he caught Lance off guard. He raised his eyebrows and smirked, demanding an answer.

“I know when I’m being flirted with,” assured Herbert. “The free food, the hand hold. You like me?”

“I think you’re cute,” Lance admitted as he busied his hands by wiping his hands with the flimsy paper napkin. 

You think he’s cute too.

“We just met.”

“Yeah. But,” Lance’s sentence stopped. Something was murmured under his breath as he fiddled with the napkins. Oh my god he’s so cute when he gets flustered. He put the crumbled mess back down on the table and looked up and sighed. “I’m new to this, okay? I came out like, three months ago. I’m still figuring things out for myself but ah, what I do know is that I enjoyed the time we’ve had together.”

Herbert gave a small smile. “I was much better than being front-row centre to the melodramatics of my roommate and her boyfriend.”

Lance frowned. “That sounded negative.”

“No, I really meant it,” Herbert insisted. His hand reached for Lance’s. “You’re my hero, Lance. I would have been subjected to them kissing every two seconds and Lucky’s obnoxious giggling and Roger’s pet names and I would have torn my hair out, taking up space and completely invisible.” He gave a little jazz hands gesture. “You save my life!”

A soft chuckle. “I wouldn’t go the far.”

“Okay. You saved my day from being a total waste.”

“I’ll take it.”

On the plate before them, there were only a few small fries completely drenched and swimming in the nacho cheese. Herbert offered the plate to Lance. 

He declined. “I think I’m good.”

“Me too.” Herbert leaned forward and looked conspiratorially to the other man. “So, where do we go from here?”

***

They ended up riding another coaster together as a pair and thus faced another grueling hour and a half wait. But they passed the time by playing “Would You Rather?”, trying to make each other laugh more. Lucky kept Herbert updated (not that he really wanted any) on how her date was going - gushing about how Roger bought a poncho to ride the water rapids because he was afraid of getting his freshly-dyed azul hair wet, and how they were going to get fried oreos afterwards.

(While he was having fries with Lance, he texted her back about where he was and how he was gonna spend the rest of the day with this stranger he met in line of Xcalibur. She asked for a picture. He sent her one that he had managed to snap while Lance was buying the fries. Oh! Okay then! And attached a smirking smiley face.)

“I don’t know why she’s so clingy with this guy,” Herbert lamented when Lucky sent him a picture of sad-looking Roger in his poncho on the water ride. “Things didn’t go well with her last relationship, with the girlfriend who I blamed the leftover fiasco on.”

“Was it because she learned that she can trust no one, not even the ones she loves dearly, with French custard and seafood?”

“No, it was because she was madly in love with her and then the girl got transferred by her company to the other side of the country and they weren’t in that point where Lucky was willing to move all the way to wherever this girl went,” Herbert said. “They had only been dating for like, nine months. So no. I did not destroy a relationship.” 

The line for the coaster - Max Force - inched forward.

“How long have you known her?” Lance asked.

“Lucky? Fetus-hood.” Herbert smirked as he noticed Lance taken aback by the unconventional phrasing. 

He began again. “No, our parents were good friends and they were set on us getting married from the time we were babies. But surprise!” He gave some jazz hands again. “ I’m gay and Lucky’s into ladies. We went to the same preschool, the same college. My dad lowkey kicked me out after I got my degree and Lucky got a job here at the Herald and I needed a place to live, so we moved in together..”

Lance had asked a lot of questions about Herbert’s life in the right now, knowing that the past was a little touchy with him, but Herbert knew very little of Lance. “So, what about you? What’s your roommate like?”

“Oh, Robin,” Lance began, shaking his head. “He’s a . . . he’s a guy.”

“Yes, I know he’s a guy.”

This didn’t get a laugh from Lance, but Herbert thought he was funny, awaiting the expected smirk at least from his sass. 

“No, I mean, he’s really interesting. We’ve been friends since the sandbox. But he’s very neat and tidy and I’m a slob, so we’re a bit like the odd couple, I guess. He’s a theatre performer but ah, not quite a successful one at the moment. That’s why he’s living with me.”

“I can relate,” Herbert said, remembering how he came to Lucky’s doorstep without a job, and without many prospects, and only a few hundred dollars to chip in for the rent and food.

But Lance added, a little more optimistically, “He has directed a lot of stuff around here. I think he’s actually signing up for a production of Rent. But I don’t know if he’s into it because he ranted to me about the show the other day and I’m not entirely sure what he was talking about because I’ve never seen Rent.”

“Well, I could be valuable,” Herbert said. “A sort of theatre-geek-to-average-Joe translator, if you will.”

“One of these days I’m just gonna have to listen to his CD collection, but he has them alphabetically organized and he’ll notice if I touch them.”

Herbert then went on to explain the plot intricacies regarding Rent in hopes that Lance would understand and be a little more educated on musical theatre than he was when he entered the line. They listened to some songs on Herbert’s phone, and the time they spent waiting seemed to go so quickly.

When they got off of Max Force, the weather had cooled considerably as it was nearly six o’clock. 

“I don’t think we have time for another ride,” Lance lamented with a glance to his phone. It shut off as he tucked it back to his pocket.“So do you want to go to the midway?”

Herbert, never being the athletic (or lucky) type, was sure that playing a game or two was going to be futile on his part. But what the heck?

The midway was two long rows of little blue shacks with a crazy assortment of games lining each side of the road: basketball, water guns, shooting galleries . . . It was almost a dizzying assortment that left Herbert unsure of what they were going to do. No of them really pique Lance’s interest, until they reached the high striker. 

“This one’s always fun.”

“If you’re like, Superman,” Herbert remarked. “I mean, I have noodle arms, so I’m already out.”

But Lance was strong, athletic, and looked like he went to the gym once in awhile. He looked like he could actually win the thing. Herbert’s eyes scanned the enormous prizes that hung on a trellis - misshapen unicorns and life-sized Bart Simpsons and blushing bananas. 

“Hey, if you win this, I want the banana,” Herbert told him as Lance handed over the five dollars (and Herbert couldn’t imagine handing over so much money for a silly game) to the attendant, who in turn, handed him the mallet.

“I wanted the Bart, but okay.” Lance tried out his grip, getting ready.

“It’s out of three tries,” the attendant reminded Lance and stepped back. 

The first made it more than half way up; the second a little more so. But Lance stepped back, took a deep breath, and gave it’s all. Herbert cheered when the bell rang and leaned against Lance, laughing. Lance’s arm wrapped around him and said, “I’m a man of my word” as he pointed to the banana, which was handed to Herbert.

 

 

“I’m gonna call him ‘Sven’,” Herbert proclaimed proudly, giving the stuffed toy a hoist over his shoulder.

“‘Sven’?” Lance asked him, with one eyebrow raised.

“Yeah, it was the first name to come to mind,” Herbert told him. “You try coming up with a better name.”

Lance couldn’t. 

“I’m gonna treasure him forever,” Herbert assured him as they left. A squeeze of a hand. “I promise you.”

***

Their time together was coming to a close as more and more families left for the day and the park started to empty. Both tried not to acknowledge that soon they’d have to go their separate ways as they got in line for the bumper cars; the short line was enticing. 

Side by side they sat, with Lance driving recklessly, slamming into cars, serving this way and that. Herbert berated him him jokingly, but when he managed to slam the breaks before they smashed right into the back of another guys car, Herbert laughed and leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. 

Lance turned, wide-eyed. 

Herbert looked away, beet-red in the face, but a second later he felt Lance’s lips brush his cheek in return before they were set in reverse.

Breathless and blushing, he tried not to look at his drive because that kiss was just complete impulse. Even when the bell rang and the ride shut off and Lance helped him out of the car, he couldn’t believe himself. 

Even when Lance took his hand while he carried Sven in his arms. Herbert looked down to the much larger hand encasing his and squeezed it. It squeezed back. 

The gates of the park, where Lucky wanted to meet, were ahead of them. But no Lucky or Roger to be seen, which made Herbert sigh with relief. He wasn’t ready for the car ride home and recount everything that had happened in the past eight hours and how Lucky would probably hound him for every detail.

“Is she here yet?” Lance asked, looking around.

“Nah. She’s probably on the ferris wheel or some other cliche ride like that,” Herbert said, even though he knew that his day was becoming more and more like Roger and Lucky’s date. 

“Do you want a funnel cake? Because I do.”

And by now, Herbert couldn’t say no to Lance. So they sat together on the bench, waiting for Lucky and Roger to come by, enjoying a funnel cake piled high with whipped cream, strawberries, and powdered sugar.

Both men were quiet as they sat, picking away at the fried dough, but both had the same thought, the same concerns in their head, the same words on the tip of their tongues.”

“I had a good time today,” Herbert finally said.

“Me too,” Lance agreed. He was silent for a moment but then asked slowly, “Hey so are you - I mean do you want to -”

“Yeah.”

“How about next Saturday?”

“I have the morning shift at the diner but I get off around lunch. You could come by, grab a coffee and what did you like? The French toast? And then we could go out after that.”

“I’d love that.”

“Herbert!”

The both whipped around to find Lucky, holding a gigantic tankard of what appeared to be lemonade and a enormous unicorn tucked under her other arm. Roger followed behind with an equally sized mug of lemonade, but thankfully giant stuffed animal-less because when Lucky saw Sven sitting on the bench next to Herbert, she groaned. 

“God, where are we gonna put these?”She exclaimed. “We live in a shoe box!”

“Where’d you win that?” Herbert asked. “I thought you sucked at these kinds of games.”

“I got really good at that water game and things got out of hand,” Lucky admitted. “I beat out a bunch of high schoolers and it felt really nice, so that’s all that matters.” She turned to Lance and sized him up. “So you’re the infamous Lance?”

“Yes I am,” he said. “And you’re the infamous Lucky?”

“Touche,” she said with a smirk. She turned to Herbert and slapped his back. “You pick ‘em good.” Before Herbert could really process what she said, she announced, “I’m heading back to the car.” And she nodded to Roger to follow.

Leaving Lance and Herbert to say their goodbyes.

“Dennis texted me not that long ago and he said that he’s heading out soon and I’m his ride so.”

Herbert nodded. “Yeah. That’s good. I’m looking forward to Saturday -”

“Yeah. Me too.”

Herbert was unsure what was going to happen next, what he was going to do, what to say to a guy he just met but made plans with -

And then Lance leaned down and kissed Herbert, fully on the lips this time around. It was still a chaste and quick, but it was still a kiss nonetheless and it left his floored and oh my god he still tasted like powdered sugar. He grabbed Lance’s arm and pulled him closer because he was sure that he was going to fall completely against him.

When they pulled apart, Herbert drew a deep breath.

“Well, ah, Saturday,” Herbert began quickly, still feeling the rush over what just happened.

“Yeah, I’ll see you then,” Lance said, a little bashful.

And with that, Herbert grabbed Sven and walked out the gates, only turning back to wave at Lance. Lucky and Roger were walking up the parking lot very slowly and he caught up.

“So you picked up some guy you met in line for a roller coaster huh?”

“Hey, I’m not the one currently dating the florist I met when I was picking up bouquets for my friend’s wedding,” Herbert said.

“Shut it.”

Roger chimed in, “It’s true though. You came onto me when I was just trying to do my job, Luck.”

“At least I made a good impression on you because here we are,” Lucky admitted triumphantly as she kissed his cheek. She sighed and then said, “Hey, so in other news, the question about stopping on the way to use the bathroom is not so much an ‘if’ but a ‘when’.”

“Then why the hell did you buy a 68 oz lemonade?” Herbert asked.

“I have absolutely no regrets,” Lucky told him.

They finally reached Roger’s florist van - his only mode of transportation. For a while, Herbert had joking called it the creepy white van, but Lucky told him to cut it out and that was when he knew that she had it for him. There were only two seats in this white van on the regular use, but Roger had put in the back bench just for Herbert.

That back bench was now also occupied with Sven and the unnamed unicorn, leaving Herbert near pressed against the window as the van rolled out of the parking lot. He was almost lulled to sleep until his phone buzzed.

He reached for his phone from out of his front pocket and saw that he got a text from Lance. 

You know, I’m glad we got stuck together.

Herbert smiled to himself. Roger’s mixtape filled the van as the pulled out onto the main road, homeward bound. Lucky laughed at some Roger said. And Herbert looked out the window and sighed. 

Yeah. Me too.


End file.
